


our faces split the coast

by daneorange (adreamaloud)



Category: Lip Service
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-01
Updated: 2012-06-01
Packaged: 2017-11-06 12:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/418680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adreamaloud/pseuds/daneorange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexy. In which there is no morning after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	our faces split the coast

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers through the end of season 2. Title from broken social scene.

Lexy’s seen it coming, the possibility of this morning after -- the sun already harsh through the windows, Sam’s side of the bed already empty – and yet the sight of it still grips her chest, forcing all the air out. _Breathe_ , she tells herself, blinking.  
  
She takes a moment to pull herself together. The sheets are still warm, and she still has Sam’s shirt on, for good measure. _What was I thinking?_ Lexy looks down at her hands and shakes her head. Inside Sam’s quiet room, she feels oddly out of place. While she’s never been here before, she knows Sam had already tidied up – she told her herself, yet Lexy still feels like she were intruding.  
  
Like Cat were still here.  
  
 _What have I just gotten into?_ Lexy steps into the bathroom, runs her hands under the faucet, stares at the mirror before opening the medicine cabinet altogether. Something Sam missed entirely, apparently – still two toothbrushes where there should be one. Lexy feels herself wincing before deciding against reaching for the toothpaste altogether.  
  
And just like that – like it were the proverbial final straw – Lexy finds herself getting dressed and leaving.  
  
At the door, she thinks about leaving a note – something casual and fun, like: _See you around_ , or, _You know where to find me._ (Or, alternatively: Something that won’t betray how Lexy really feels: Serious and tense and, truth be told, kind of very terrified.)  
  
If only she can bring herself to actually write it down.  
  
(She doesn’t. After what feels like ten solid minutes just standing there, a hand on the door knob – nothing.)  
  
*  
  
Back at their flat, Lexy walks into her room and finds Tess sleeping in her bed, in the clothes she probably had on for the after party (“ _I don’t have legs for this._ ”) Deep inside, Lexy knows: She’s a horrible person (“ _I’m still at the hospital._ ”) She takes a moment to take that in, gripping the edge of a nearby drawer as a wave of nausea washes over her.  
  
The phrase that enters her mind is, _Probably worse than Frankie._ Lexy remembers _that_ morning after with Frankie and laughs. _What was I thinking?_ It’s not even mid-morning, and already she cannot count how many times she’s asked herself this question.  
  
*  
  
Lexy is in the kitchen drinking tea when Tess wakes; they catch each other entirely by surprise, and Lexy springs to her feet, like it were a medical emergency.  
  
“Hey,” Tess says, her face coloured with various shades of confusion, surprise and embarrassment. “Been here long?”  
  
Lexy shakes her head. “Just got in, actually,” she says, sipping nonchalantly. _It’s not a bad lie if it doesn’t hurt people._ “I’m sorry about missing your second half. I believe you killed it though?”  
  
Tess breathes out, taking a seat on the sofa, and the way this conversation excites her kind of hurts. “Not really,” she says, trying to calm herself. Lexy lowers her cup to the table, for fear of her shaking hand. “Though there was this moment where I thought… Never mind.”  
  
“Where you thought…?” Lexy coaxes. It feels like making up for something, at least. “Carry on?”  
  
“I don’t know – like I _stole_ the audience. From Nora. Who, by the way—“ Tess leans in, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I totally told off during the after party.”  
  
“Oh wow,” Lexy says, honestly impressed. “Good for you.”  
  
Tess nods to herself, saying, “Yeah.” And then, “That felt… it felt really good.”  
  
Lexy hums her final agreement, and just like that, there is nothing really left to say. Tess falls back into the sofa and stares at the ceiling. In this light, Lexy can see what makes her look lovely, and she can’t bear it.  
  
“I think I’m going to bed,” she says, rising from her seat and taking her cup to the sink.  
  
“I’ll get that,” Tess offers. “Horrible night?”  
  
There’s that hint of concern in Tess’ voice again, and it pierces through something tender, right inside Lexy’s chest, and she wonders, is this how Sam’s attacks feel like? Like she were getting punctured from the inside?  
  
 _Sam._ Lexy blinks, breathes out.  
  
“You alright?” Tess asks again.  
  
“Yeah, just—” At her door, she contemplates looking back. She doesn’t. “I could use some sleep,” she says, entering her room and closing the door after her, softly.  
  
*  
  
Of course, Lexy doesn’t sleep, because when she closes her eyes, she feels the ghost of Sam’s back pressed against her, and it is all too warm in places.  
  
*  
  
Later, when she’s had her fill of her room’s interior, Lexy steps out and thinks about the day ahead. She spies Tess still on the sofa, reading a book with an absent smile on her face. _How about someone wanting me, for a change?_  
  
 _How about that, indeed._ “Hey Tess?” she calls out from the hallway, and like a child caught, Tess promptly wipes the smile off her lips. _Always the actress._ “I was thinking – what are you doing tonight?”  
  
The way Tess just lights up at that – _Oh,_ Lexy thinks, _how could I have not seen?_  
  
“Not much,” says Tess, clearing her throat. “I could think of a thing or two… with you?”  
  
 _Oh._ There’s something that’s lodged in Lexy’s throat; it beats like a heart. “I think I owe you dinner,” she says. “Let me just get—“  
  
“All right then,” Tess says. Her voice is all tempered want, yet her face hides nothing about her hope.  
  
 _How about that._ “Stay there.” Lexy smiles at her, and Tess turns away, as if to hide her own.  
  
It feels like opening a window after the door’s been shut.#


End file.
